


Young Hearts Spark Fire

by Zee (orphan_account)



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, M/M, Marijuana, Other, Parent Death, Threesome - F/M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 02:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Zee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny gives good hugs and is not at all sure that he wants to know what's really going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young Hearts Spark Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: One of the characters has just experienced a parent committing suicide, and there are many scenes dealing with the ramifications of that. There is some substance use as a coping mechanism. 
> 
> Notes: This will all surely be jossed by tonight's episode, but ah well. Thanks to pearl_o for the beta. Title is a Japandroids song.

Danny always enjoys Spring Break lacrosse practices more than the regular ones. They’re smaller, because there’s always a good chunk of the team that ends up traveling during the week off, and anyone who’s staying in Beacon Hills for the break has so much free time on their hands that they’re eager and excited to play. Even Coach Finstock is usually in a good mood when they practice over Spring Break.

This year is an exception, though, because once again, Jackson has skipped practice, and Coach is pissed. He doesn’t accept Danny’s truthful answer that he has no idea why Jackson isn’t here—Jackson would never miss even normal practice without an injury or illness, and that goes double for break and summer practices, because Jackson loathes spending all that extra time with his parents when he doesn’t have school to go to. 

When Coach turns to Scott to try and get an answer about Jackson’s whereabouts, Scott doesn’t even try to give an answer. He just sighs, and looks downcast and tired, and shrugs. Coach continues yelling at him, but he keeps his head down, his jaw clenching as Coach refuses to let up.

Danny has to jump in, because Scott looks two seconds away from throwing down his stick and walking out of practice. “Hey, I just remembered, I think Jackson mentioned something about feeling cruddy the last time I saw him,” he says. “He’s probably just home sick.”

Coach finally leaves Scott alone at that, although he tells Danny to give Jackson the message that if he misses any more practices, he’s off the team. 

Danny says that he will. He doesn’t say that he’s pretty sure that flying pigs are more likely to see Jackson sooner than Danny, these days; everyone but Jackson himself seems to be operating under the assumption that he and Danny still spend a ton of time together, even though that hasn’t been true for weeks. 

The last time Danny saw Jackson was about a week ago, when Danny asked him why on Earth he’d had detention with Matt and Scott, of all people, and Jackson had given him an ugly look, turned around, and walked away without a word. Since then, he hasn’t answered a single one of Danny’s texts or calls. 

And even before that last, baffling interaction, Jackson had been distant and grumpy, even by his normal standards. Danny wants to assume that it’s just a mood, or something else inconsequential that Jackson will get over, but he’s never been so uncommunicative. He’s never ignored Danny like this, and Danny can’t shake the feeling that it could mean he’s losing his best friend.

In the locker room after practice, Scott finds him. “Hey, thanks for getting the coach off my back,” he says. He’s all smiles, but Danny thinks that there’s still something a little off about him, a little sadder and more worried than usual. 

“No problem,” Danny says, trying to keep his eyes on Scott’s face, rather than glancing down at his chest, still glistening for the shower. Scott doesn’t look worried, he looks like he’s hiding something, and Danny can’t help but wonder—“Hey, seriously though, _do_ you know anything about Jackson? Because I’m kind of worried about him. And, I don’t know, he got in that weird fight with you in the locker room, and you... well, you seem like you’ve some stuff going on. Any intersection between that and whatever stuff Jackson’s got going on?” 

Danny looks at him closely, and Scott winces, suddenly not meeting Danny’s eyes. “No, I have no idea what’s up with him.”

Danny sighs. “Dude, you’re a terrible liar.” Scott actually looks hurt at that, which, how could he possibly not have known that about himself? “Whatever you’re involved in, I really don’t care, but come on, Jackson’s my best friend and if there’s anything wrong with him, then you shouldn’t lie to me about it.

Scott sort of wilts at that. “I’m not lying to you! I just—“ he sighs and the corners of his mouth go down when he sees Danny’s significant look. “All I know is that Jackson’s not... he’s got some stuff going on, and I don’t think he’s dealing with it very well.”

Scott definitely knows more than that, but Danny doesn’t think that now is the time to push. “Okay. I’ll stop by his house on my way home—“

“No! I mean—I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Scott’s head snaps up and he steps forward earnestly, his hand clutching at Danny’s shoulder. “I’m serious, okay? You should probably stay away from Jackson for a while.”

“Um, no? Not gonna do that, not if I know he’s in some kind of trouble.” Danny raises an eyebrow and wills himself not to step away from Scott’s invasion of his personal space, even though it’s making him uncomfortably excited. Scott, he’s pretty sure, has no idea what kind of an effect he can have on people, which is why he’s so free with himself around Danny, and Danny doesn’t want to spoil it. 

“I’m serious.” Scott’s other hand comes up to Danny’s neck, his palm hot against Danny’s skin, and it occurs to Danny that Scott looks worried and scared and a little unhinged. “I’m gonna take care of Jackson, okay? I promise. But you should stay away. You could get hurt.”

Danny waits for Scott to realize that he’s getting up close and personal with a gay guy, but Scott doesn’t move his hands away. He’s staring into Danny’s eyes like he’s talking about some life or death matter, and it makes what he’s saying become very convincing.

“Okay,” Danny says, slowly. “Should I not question why Jackson needs taking care of? Or why you’re the one doing it?”

Scott snorts like the irony is not lost on him. “Probably not.”

Danny takes Scott’s hand off his shoulder, but he doesn’t let go of it, not wanting to ruin the moment. “And what about why you and everyone else we know is lying all the time? Should I also not question that?”

Scott looks miserable and squeezes Danny’s hand. “I know it’s messed up, but... can you just trust me when I say that I have my reasons?”

Scott holds his gaze until Danny slowly nods. He’s not sure when Scott grew so much in his esteem, and can’t put his finger on exactly why he finds him so trustworthy. But he’s probably one of the only people in the world who could convince Danny to look the other way when Jackson is involved. 

When Scott tells him that he could get hurt, Danny feels like he should believe him.

Scott sighs with relief. He squeezes Danny’s hand before letting go; his hand on Danny’s neck lingers, then travels up till his fingers tangle in Danny’s hair, patting affectionately before Scott finally lets his hand drop. He doesn’t step back, though. “Thanks. Seriously.”

“Um, are you okay?” Danny asks, because Scott’s acting like he needs Danny to be his lifeline, which is.... unusual.

Scott laughs a little and gives Danny a sad smile instead of an answer. Danny decides to hell with keeping his distance from straight boys that he’s unfairly attracted to, and opens his arms. “You want a hug?”

Scott doesn’t even blink, like it’s the most normal request in the world. “You know what? Yeah,” he says, and then Danny is enveloped in the smell of shower gel and Old Spice, and Scott’s hair is rubbing up against his cheek while Scott’s bare chest is rubbing up against Danny’s bare chest. Danny gives him the best, most supportive hug in his repertoire, and Scott makes a grateful noise into Danny’s neck.

Scott gives off a whole hell of a lot of body heat. Before they broke up, Danny had often joked about using George as his own personal space heater, but Scott’s warmth puts even George’s to shame.

Danny has started considering whether he might have to angle his hips to hide a growing erection when Scott finally steps back, looking a little happier. “Thanks. You’re really—Jackson is lucky to have you as a friend.”

Danny grins at him, surprised and pleased. “ _You’re_ lucky to have me as a friend,” he says, and Scott beams at him.

Danny shakes his head and gets back to putting his shirt back on and collecting his things. He’s got his duffel slung over his shoulder and is ready to walk out of the locker room when Scott says, “Oh! Hey, Danny?”

Danny turns around with a questioning glance. Scott looks like he’s just remembered something important. 

“You should stay away from Matt, too, okay?”

Danny feels his face heat. “Jackson _told_ you?”

“What? No, I don’t know,” Scott says, waving that away, clearly not in possession of a clue about Danny’s not-a-crush-godammit-Jackson. “Matt’s just a douchebag, is all. He’s a total creep and I don’t know if you two are friends or what, but—I don’t want him to hurt you.”

Danny squeezes his eyes shut and deliberately pushes away all of the questions that this immediately brings to mind. “We’re not friends, no. Thanks for the tip.”

“No problem. Have a good Spring Break.” He smiles at Danny, looking like he has a genuine, sincere and bone-deep wish for Danny to have a good Spring Break. 

“You too,” Danny says, turning around swiftly to leave before his face gives anything away.

This isn’t the first break-up he’s experienced, but he’d liked George so much, way more than maybe he should have after only a couple of months together. He wasn’t prepared for how lonely and needy he’d feel without George there. In the three weeks since George dumped him, Danny’s had to stop himself from throwing himself after almost every guy that he interacts with. 

The entire point of going to the club was so that he could find a stranger to kiss and cling to, someone safe to turn to, so that he could stop having inappropriate and hopeless crushes on his teammates. But that, of course, had been an epic failure, and then Scott had maddeningly shown up, all concerned and kind and considerate, as if God himself had sent him to mock Danny’s attempts to get away from who he knew he wanted to be with.

Danny would have taken it as a good sign, if it weren’t for the fact that Scott might be the straightest guy he knows. As it is, he takes it as the universe mocking him. 

 

***

 

When school starts back up, it immediately becomes clear to Danny why Scott had been so bummed out over the break. The news of Allison’s mom’s death spreads through the school like wildfire, and every conversation that Danny finds himself in makes him wish that high school could be over. He’s done making time for people who get excited about sharing outlandish rumors about the reasons behind why someone committed suicide. 

In biology class, Mr. Parker asks for volunteers to bring Allison the homework she’s going to miss, since he’s been informed that she won’t be in school for the rest of the week, and possibly longer. Scott is also in this class, but he’s absent today (along with Stiles and Jackson and Lydia, which is deeply suspicious and Danny is doing his best not to think about it too much). Danny looks around, but no one is volunteering—instead, people are trading looks that say that, thanks to a lot of the awful rumors, Allison is the new weirdo-pariah of the school. It pisses him off. 

So he finds himself going to Allison’s house after school with a folder of homework assignments that, he’s sure, she couldn’t give less of a shit about right now. Or maybe she’ll be relieved to have something that she can work on to distract her—Danny’s never lost a parent, he can’t pretend to have any idea of what she’s going through.

When Allison answers the door, she doesn’t bother to smile. “Thanks,” she says in a scratchy voice as he wordlessly hands over her homework.

She looks numb, which makes Danny feel extra-terrible for her. “I’m so sorry about your mother. I know that you’re probably hearing that from all corners, and it probably doesn’t help, but...” he shrugs. “If there’s anything I can do, you can ask. I hope that you’re getting the support you need.”

Allison blinks, and finally meets his eyes. “Thanks,” she says again, a little surprised this time. They don’t know each other well; they’ve never interacted with each other without Jackson or Lydia or Scott present. But Danny has always liked her, always been drawn to the air of confidence and strength that she radiates around her. In that way, she reminds him of Jackson.

To his surprise, she steps back and gives him a welcoming gesture. “Here, you can come in. Can I get you a drink or anything?”

Danny follows her inside. “No, I’m fine, you don’t need to—I didn’t mean to intrude on anything.” He feels a little guilty that she feels obligated to play host for him, because he can’t imagine that she’s enjoying having a guest right now. 

But Allison gives him a small, tight smile over her shoulder. “You’re not. It’s good to have a non-Argent in the house.” There’s steel in her voice when she mentions her family, and Danny doesn’t protest when she disappears into the kitchen and comes back with two beers. They sit on the couch, drinking in silence for the first few minutes. Danny’s not sure why he’s the one that she wants to be hanging out with right now, but if he’s honest with himself, between losing George and Jackson’s avoidance, he’s craving company right now. It feels good to be with her.

It’s Allison who eventually breaks the silence. “She tried to talk to me, a few hours before she killed herself. She wanted to talk to me, and I blew her off to hang out with Lydia, and a few hours later she was dead.”

Oh, Jesus. That makes his heart hurt. Danny reaches out and squeezes her shoulder. “There’s no way you could have known,” he says, as gently as he possibly can.

Allison’s voice cracks when she laughs. “Right. That makes it better, that makes it okay for me to have ignored her, to have—“ she stops and takes another large gulp of her beer. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Danny says, and Allison looks at him with self-loathing etched into every line in her face. Danny thinks about Jackson, about the way Jackson sometimes looks when he thinks no one is paying attention. “Seriously—I’m not like, an expert on depression or anything, but I do know that if someone’s going to kill themselves, then it has nothing to do with anyone else’s actions. Nothing to do with any conversations they did or didn’t have that day.”

“How do you know? You don’t know my family.” Allison’s eyes are welling up and her jaw is clenched. She looks like she could fly apart at any second. Danny feels epically, miserably unsuited to this—Scott should be here, or Lydia, or someone else that knows her better, not someone who just happens to be here because he was dropping off her homework. He feels like he’s intruding.

“I don’t,” he admits. “But I still know that not talking to her doesn’t mean that you’re a bad person. It doesn’t make you guilty.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t, I—“ Tears slide down her cheeks, and she makes a furious, choked-off noise as she wipes at her face. “Fuck, no, I am so done with crying.” 

She grabs her beer bottle and starts to turn her face away, stopping when Danny touches her wrist. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with you crying right now.”

“I’m not crying!” Allison wipes her eyes over and over, her chest heaving. “I have cried _enough,_ and this is—it’s just stupid, and weak, and—“

“Whoa, whoa,” Danny says as Allison yanks her wrist and punches herself viciously in the thigh. “You’ve had a death in the family, it so does not make you weak to cry about that. Honestly, I’d be way more concerned if you _weren’t_ crying.”

Allison doesn’t look at him. She takes a few deep breaths, still trying to collect herself, obviously still not okay with the tears. “I’m not a crier.”

“Didn’t say you were.” Danny tries to keep his voice light. Jackson has cried in front of him a few times, and every time he’s acted more enraged—at himself, at Danny, at the world—than he ever lets show at any other time, which, considering the general level of rage that Jackson lets show on a daily basis, says a lot. When you have someone that pathologically furious about crying, it’s best to not try to comfort them too much, best to generally act casual and like nothing is happening .

“I’m not,” Allison snarls at him. “I never cry, especially not in front of anyone else, especially—“ she clutches at her hair and sobs, and Danny carefully sets his beer down on the coffee table.

“Maybe I should go,” he says. “If you want privacy—“

“No, don’t go, please don’t.” Her face is getting red and she’s shuddering now, hunched in on herself. Danny touches her shoulder because he can’t stop himself, because she looks like she’s in so much pain and he just wants to make it better, any way he can. She doesn’t object when he pulls her into a hug. 

“I don’t understand.” Allison’s voice is buried against his shoulder, her hands clenched in his t-shirt. Danny tucks his face against her hair. “I don’t understand, I don’t, I...” 

Danny doesn’t tell her that it’s not the kind of thing anyone understands, because he’s sure that she already knows that, at least intellectually. And he doesn’t have anything else to say, doesn’t have any words that could possibly make this at all better. So he just lets her cry on him until her sobs slow to hiccups, until her grip loosens and she finally pulls back. 

“God, I’m sorry,” she says, wiping her eyes and her nose. “I yelled at you and then got snot on your shirt.”

“You really don’t have to apologize,” Danny says, smiling at her. She gives him a sad, watery smile back. 

“Thanks.” She looks him up and down, a realization dawning in her eyes. “You’re... really cool, you know that?”

“Yes,” Danny says, his smile growing into a grin, because false modesty is no one’s friend. And he can’t lie: it feels good to be complimented, to have someone else look at him with outright admiration, after George made it so clear that he was less than impressed with him. It makes Danny want to preen a little.

Allison gives him a small smile in return. “I’m glad that the lacrosse team’s got at least one guy who isn’t a total asshole.”

“Come on, Jackson’s not _that_ bad,” Danny says on automatic, and then her words really catch up to him. “Wait, you think Scott’s an asshole?”

Allison’s face shuts down. “We broke up.”

Danny can feel his eyebrows shoot up, because Allison isn’t even bothering to pretend that she’s talking about the break-up that theoretically happened before she and Scott started their current (or not so current, apparently?) “secret” relationship. “Geez. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be.” Allison is staring off into the distance with murder on her face, and Danny kind of can’t believe that _Scott McCall_ is the one inspiring this sort of rage—from anyone, much less from Allison. 

“Um.” Danny scratches at the back of his neck and restrains himself from asking what happened, because he’s dying to know, but this is clearly not the time. He’s desperately searching for another topic of conversation, when he hears the buzz of Allison’s phone. She pulls it out to glance at the text, and grimaces.

“Oh God, my dad’s on the way home. Let’s get out of here.”

Allison clearly doesn’t want to spend any time with her dad, which Danny is also kind of curious about, but this is another topic he’s not touching with a ten foot pole. Allison stands, her unfinished beer forgotten on the table, and he follows her to the front door, still kind of confused as to why she wants to get out of here with him, of all people.

As they head outside, Allison calls over her shoulder, “I have a fake, I can buy us liquor,” and then it clicks—she doesn’t want to see her dad, or Scott, but she wants to go drinking with Danny precisely _because_ he could be anybody, which means she doesn’t have to care, not really. She doesn’t even have to worry about him hitting on her, which, because she’s so gorgeous, would be a concern with almost every other guy (and plenty of the girls) at their school. She doesn’t want him here to truly be her friend, she wants him here to facilitate her thinking about her life just a little bit less.

It almost makes him want to leave, because he prefers it when the people that hang out with him are actually doing it because they like and appreciate him as a person, rather than because he’s there. Danny’s happy to give her a shoulder to cry on; he’s a good listener, and it’s honestly not the first time that an acquaintance-not-friend has surprised themselves by spilling secrets to him. 

He thinks about letting her gently, coming up with some kind of an excuse for why he can’t be the one that she gets drunk with and acts like not-herself-in-the-slightest with right now. Would she want to be his friend so badly if she weren’t grieving? 

But she looks back at him, brittle and defiant and already burying the extent of her need. And he feels drawn to her, in a way that goes beyond pity or simple kindness on his end. So when Allison twists around to look at him, he says, “Great, then I’ll drive,” and she gives him a feral grin.

They buy some flavored vodka, on Danny’s recommendation, not that he’ll be having any of it. Then they park at the edge of one of the National Forest camping grounds and head into the woods, which makes Allison laugh hysterically, but she won’t tell Danny why. They hike up and find a rock to sit on that overlooks a valley, and Allison proceeds to get shitfaced while Danny lights up a joint.

It’s not the fun kind of drinking, but it comes surprisingly close at times. It actually reminds Danny of hanging out with Jackson on Mother’s Day or Father’s Day—and he’s not sure if Allison legitimately reminds him so much of his best friend, or if it’s just that Jackson’s on his mind more than usual because Danny’s worried about him. But just like Jackson, Allison gets extremely handsy when she passes a certain inebriation threshold, her head permanently slumped on Danny’s shoulder as she laughs about things that really shouldn’t be funny at all. 

Danny keeps an arm around her. He really hopes that they stay friends and continue to hang out after this, because it turns out that Allison is really cool. He’d known this before, of course, because Lydia and Jackson like her and they don’t like anyone, but he hadn’t known it firsthand. Plus (and this could absolutely be the weed talking, he’s not sure), he thinks that she’s one of the few women he’s ever personally met that he’s attracted to. 

At one point, after she laughs at one of his stories about Jackson, she turns her face against his neck and he feels the brush of her lips. He likes it, and then immediately feels crushing guilt, because she’s only acting this way because she thinks he’s not going to have any kind of reaction like this. 

He leans carefully away, letting his hand drop from her shoulder. “It’s getting late. We should probably get you home.”

“Fuck, my, home,” Allison says in a sing-song-y voice. “Do you have any idea how many guns we have in the basement, Danny? So many, and it’s so stupid, so—“ She stops and sways, and Danny has to steady her. 

“Guns or not, I think home is necessary for you right now,” he says firmly, and Allison closes her eyes and nods.

Allison is silent throughout most of the drive back, curled up with her head resting against the passenger window. Then she startles, and turns to Danny with a guilty expression on her face. “God, I’ve been talking about my own problems all night and never once asked you about yours.”

“Allison, Jesus, you’re allowed to focus on your own shit when your mom’s just died,” Danny says, incredulous.

“Okay, but I’m of the belief that reciprocation is part of friendship.” She reaches forward, covering his hand on the stick shift. “And I want us to be friends.”

Danny’s breath hitches. He’s going to blame the effect that her big brown eyes are having on the post-breakup loneliness/horniness, dammit. “Thanks. I do, too.”

She squeezes his hand. “Scott told me that you had an ex there, that night at the club. Was it a recent break-up?”

Danny looks out the window. “Yeah.” He doesn’t want to talk about George, except that he does, so badly, to anyone who will listen—the desire to get all this stuff off his chest to someone, to have someone understand, swamps him so badly that it scares him, which is why he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“I’m sorry.” Allison’s fingers rub at his shoulder, then trail down his bicep. “Were you guys together long, was it serious?”

“Ha. No and no, at least not for him.” Danny makes a face at himself. If Jackson were here, he would groan and give Danny shit for being a drama queen, and then call George horrible and offensive names until Danny had to laugh. But Allison makes a soothing noise and rubs her thumb in a circle above his elbow, and right now, Danny almost likes this better.

He glances over at her. “We were only together for three months or so. He’s a freshman at the community college, and—I don’t know.” He stays silent a minute, and then bursts out, “I don’t know if he thought I was too smart for him, or too serious for him, or what, but he made it really clear that he didn’t feel the way I felt about him.”

“Asshole,” Allison says, with feeling. 

“I don’t think he even wanted to do the ‘relationship’ thing, in the first place. He acted like I was crazy for wanting him to meet my parents, my friends.” Danny can’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. He ends up telling Allison the whole stupid story, how he and George met, how George hated Danny’s good grades and the likely scholarship he’d have to college in a few years, how Danny let himself get clingy and insecure the second George started acting distant. The whole thing makes him feel painfully foolish and immature, not least because George broke up with him three weeks ago and Danny doesn’t feel any more over it now than he did then.

“Meanwhile, he’s dancing with other guys and probably hasn’t given me a second thought,” Danny says as he pulls up in front of the Argent house. 

“Well, I’ve never met him, but I can still say with 100% certainty that you’re too good for him. Because you’re just that great.” Allison gives him a smile that manages to be brighter than the sun despite her reddened eyes and obvious drunkenness. Then it’s gone and she looks solemn again. “Seriously. I don’t know how to thank you for tonight. You have—no idea how much I needed this.”

Danny gives up on any semblance of cool and just throws his arms around her, and she hugs back enthusiastically. “Any time, I mean it. I’m excited to be friends.”

 

****

 

On Friday, Danny walks out of his house in the morning to see the Porsche pulled up in front of his house. The window is rolled down and Jackson is sprawled in the front seat, leering at him. “Get in, bitch.”

Danny glares and crosses his arms over his chest. “No. You’re an asshole.”

The grin slides off of Jackson’s face and he sighs. “I’m really sorry, okay? I know that I’ve been...” He shifts around in his seat uncomfortably and looks away.

“Been what? Avoiding me? Ignoring me? Pulling a disappearing act so thorough that I wasn’t sure we were even friends anymore?” Danny tries to make his voice sound wrathful, but it comes out more hurt than he’d like. 

Jackson looks at him again at that. “What? Of course we’re still friends.”

“Then how come I haven’t heard from you in two weeks? I was honestly starting to worry that you’d died or something.” Which is true, although Danny doesn’t realize it until he says it. He swallows hard, and relief at seeing Jackson, chipper with his dickish swagger intact, floods in.

“Totally didn’t die. And I wanted to call you, okay, it was just—“ Jackson looks out the window, and not for the first time, Danny wonders what in the _hell_ is going on with him and Scott lately. Do they have double lives as part of a teenaged spy network? Government conspiracy? Secret ninjas?

“It was just all really complicated, and it sucked, but it’s over now and I’ve got my normal life back,” Jackson continues, then shoots Danny a hangdog look. “Come on, let me give you a ride to school.”

Danny grumbles, but gets into the passenger side, because Jackson knows that the Porsche is his weakness. “Fine, but I want a real explanation.”

Jackson peels away from the sidewalk and blasts the radio. Danny turns it down, and Jackson immediately flips the dial to even louder than before, and a brief tussle ensues.

“ _No,_ seriously, explanation time,” Danny says.

Jackson pouts. “Fine. Do you trust—“

“If you’re asking me to trust you enough for you to continue lying to me, I swear to God that I will throw myself out of this speeding car.”

“No, jerkoff, calm your tits. I was _going_ to ask if you trust my judgment of—things.”

“Do I trust your judgment of ‘things,’” Danny says slowly, mocking more than a little bit. Jackson glares, and Danny sighs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure, I guess.”

“Okay, then listen.” They’re only two blocks away from school, so Jackson pulls over to the side of the road and stops the car, twisting to face Danny. “If you ask me to, I will absolutely tell you anything you want to know about what’s been going on with me. But trust me when I say that it will probably upset you, definitely won’t _improve_ your life, and will almost certainly involve you in a shit-ton of really stupid shit that _could_ kill you but will definitely make you at least wish you were dead because it’s all so stupid.”

Danny frowns. “Does all of this involve Scott in any way?”

Jackson gives his bitchiest sigh and rolls his eyes to the heaven. “It did. But some of it’s kind of resolved now and I am therefore going to do my absolute best to keep that dickweed out of my life from now on.”

“Huh.”

Jackson looks back at him. “So, do you still want me to tell you? Hurry up and decide, because class starts in like three minutes.”

Danny gives him a look that clearly communicates that he will not be rushed, and Jackson groans like Danny is making his life miserable. Danny has to turn his face towards the window to hide his smile at that, because—all else aside, it’s just really good to have his asshole of a best friend back.

“Are you a secret ninja? Is _Scott_ a secret ninja?”

“What? No, my ninja skills are not a secret,” Jackson scoffs, and Danny can’t help but laugh.

Does he really want to know what’s been going on lately? Whatever it is has clearly been making Jackson—and, Danny is willing to bet, Scott as well—miserable. And it probably has something to do with why Scott and Allison broke up, and why Matt was mysteriously transferred to a new school yesterday. Hell, maybe it even has something to do with ‘Miguel,’ because now that Danny looks back on it, that whole incident was one of the shiftiest things he’s ever participated in. 

He’s definitely curious, but he also knows a train wreck when he sees one. And as much as he would never admit this to Jackson’s face, he absolutely believes him when he says that the knowledge could put Danny’s life in danger. 

 

“All right, I’m content to not know,” he says finally, and Jackson claps him on the shoulder in relief. “But just—I really need an honest answer here: are things with you okay again?”

Jackson takes a second to decide on an answer, staring off into space before meeting Danny’s eyes again. “I think so, yeah.”

Danny narrows his eyes. “So no more dodging my calls or being the shittiest friend ever?”

“Cross my heart,” Jackson says, and actually crosses his heart with a sincere look on his face.

Danny nods, satisfied. “Okay. Then we’re good.”

They drive the rest of the way to school, and Jackson hugs him hard when they get out of the car, because he’s so much more of a softie at heart than he wants anyone else to know. 

 

***

 

That weekend, Danny is walking from his favorite café back to his car when Scott comes barreling around a corner and crashes right into him, knocking the latté in Danny’s hand to the ground with a splash. 

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!” Scott says, grabbing Danny’s shoulders to steady him. Danny can hear sirens getting closer.

“Dude, what the hell?” 

But Scott is already dragging him down an alleyway, his eyes wide and panicked. “No time to explain,” he pants, and did his eyes just flash gold? What— “Just go with it!”

And then Scott’s twisting Danny around so that his back is to the street and Scott’s back is to the alley, and then Scott’s kissing him. His mouth is closed at first, but then his lips open and both their tongues quickly become involved. Danny kisses back on automatic, his hands settling on Scott’s hips, and then he hears cops running past, their footsteps slowing when they notice the two of them in an alleyway, and then speeding up as they hurry past. Danny makes indignant noises and tries to push Scott away, but Scott clings to him until the sirens pass.

Danny shoves him away as soon as he’s able. “What the _hell,_ ” he says again, bile rising in his throat. He’s not sure which makes him more pissed off: the fact that he really enjoyed that kiss, or the fact that Scott is more of an asshole than he’d thought.

“Sorry, those cops were after me,” Scott says, as if that’s not completely fucking obvious. He touches his fingertips to his lips. “You taste chocolatey, was that a mocha you were drinking?”

Danny balls his hands into fists. “You’re a dick. You can’t just—you do realize that this is just a little bit fucking different from dancing with me to get Coach off your ass, right?”

“Huh?” Scott’s forehead crinkles up and he looks so confused about why Danny is mad at him that it almost, almost lessens his anger.

Danny looks away, his jaw clenched. “Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean you can just—I don’t like being toyed with, okay?”

“You think I’m toying with you?” Scott takes a step forward, and Danny takes a step back.

“I know you are,” Danny snaps. “I know you’re not really interested.”

“Not interested,” Scott parrots. His forehead crinkles in a different way, and he looks right at Danny’s mouth for a second, and then Danny’s getting kissed again.

Danny can’t help but go with it this time. Scott’s mouth slides against his in the most wonderfully slippery way, and when he pulls Danny roughly against him (his hands are strong, and big, and warm), it sends a jolt of electricity down Danny’s spine. When Danny sticks his tongue in Scott’s mouth, Scott makes an extremely loud, extremely enthusiastic noise. 

So, _not_ the straightest guy Danny knows, then.

It’s the nicest thing Danny’s experienced since George dumped him, but he can’t pretend to himself that it’s not still wrong. With an effort, he pulls back and away. 

“It’s still—not okay,” he manages, panting. “Dude, what about Allison?”

Scott’s face falls. “We’re not together anymore,” he says in a small voice.

“But you two are obviously still in love with each other.” Danny crosses his arms, trying to express more conviction and resolve than he really feels. “Which means I’m not interested.” 

Scott nods sadly and backs off without a protest. Danny kind of hates himself for wishing that Scott _would_ protest, because Allison’s now his friend and she doesn’t need her new friend to get all besotted with her ex, not on top of everything else. 

“You’re a really good kisser,” Scott tells him with a half-hearted smile. “Sorry for the, uh—yeah.” 

“No problem,” Danny mutters, mostly at the ground. When he looks up, Scott is gone.

 

***

 

“Thanks for coming over, and for being willing to share.” Allison is sitting on the bed, hugging her knees, while Danny rolls the joint at her desk. 

Danny looks up, smiling at her before licking the rolling paper and pressing the two edges together. “For you? Anytime. It might not make you feel any better, though.”

Allison shrugs one shoulder and rests her temple on her knees. “I’m still curious.” 

Danny bounces onto her bed and lights it up, only taking a short puff before passing it to Allison. She breathes it in with a concentrating look on her face, then coughs as she hands it back to him. 

“Oh my god,” she says, a hand on her chest as she giggles through the coughing fit. “God, sorry, I didn’t expect—uck—“

Danny laughs. “You don’t need to apologize, it’s fine. Normal.” He’s been spending too much of his time stoned since the break-up, and he should maybe try to cool it a bit, but it feels different and better to be doing it with someone else instead of alone in his room. Plus, Allison probably needs this about a thousand times more than he does, and when she called and shyly asked if he could come over to smoke with her, he didn’t hesitate before saying yes.

They finish the joint, and lie down next to each other on the bed, elbows touching. Danny can feel all his thoughts softening and flattening out, and his mouth getting a little dry. 

“It’s nice,” Allison says eventually. “I think I like it?”

“Mm. I’ve always preferred it to alcohol.”

“I never really drank, either, before moving here.” When Danny tilts her head to look at her, she has a small, unhappy smile on her face. “Beacon Hills has been a bad influence.”

“I apologize on its behalf.”

Allison flops her head to the side to look at him. “I think that my mother would still be alive if we’d never moved here.”

Danny sucks in a breath. There’s not a single thing he can possibly say to that, so he just does his best to keep meeting her eyes. She doesn’t say anything else, just studies him with an empty expression and bloodshot eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Danny says eventually. It’s so useless, and he knows it, but what else can he say?

“Oh, um, sorry,” says a voice behind them, and Danny jerks around to see Scott perched in Allison’s open window. He wrinkles his nose. “Wow, it smells really strong in here.”

“We left the window open,” Allison says defensively, sitting up and coughing some more.

Danny squints. “Dude. Why are you coming in through the window?”

“Because my dad doesn’t want him to be here,” Allison says as Scott looks guilty. “Well? Come in.”

Scott slides into the room as Danny sits up slowly, figuring that he needs to make his exit. But Scott just walks over and sits at the foot of the bed, and he looks a little worried but not uncomfortable in the slightest. He rests a hand on Danny’s ankle and gives Allison a questioning look.

“I wanted to try it,” Allison says, defensive. “I wanted to see if it—helped.” 

Her voice catches, and Scott gets an anguished look on his face. “Does it help?” he asks in a small voice. Allison just shrugs.

Danny clears his throat. “So, uh, did you guys get back together?” He can’t stop himself from glaring at Scott a little bit, because Danny’s really going to feel like an asshole if the answer is yes. 

“Kind of,” Scott says, at the same time that Allison says, “It’s complicated.” 

“It wasn’t his fault!” Scott says, sounding upset, and then his grip on Danny’s ankle tightens as he levers himself completely onto the bed and crawls forward. Scott tries to kiss Allison, but she pulls back slightly and grabs Danny’s wrist.

“I don’t care,” she says. “And Danny and I are hanging out, so you can just.” She stops and licks her lips, looking down and away because Scott is still pretty much in her lap.

“Um, I should probably go,” Danny says loudly, because he’s stoned but he’s still pretty sure that this is weird.

“No, I didn’t come here to make you leave.” Scott glances at Danny with an odd mixture of emotions on his face, and Danny can’t help but remember, quite vividly, what kissing him was like.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” Scott continues, this time to Allison. He cups her cheek and she closes her eyes, gulping. 

“I’m fine.” 

Scott touches their foreheads together, and this time she doesn’t move away when he kisses her. She kisses back, and their faces are only like a foot away from Danny, and—damn, they’re a good-looking couple. Danny stares at the way Scott’s muscles bunch beneath his t-shirt, and then realizes that Allison’s fingers have loosened on his wrist and seriously, that needs to be his cue to go. 

He gets to his feet as unobtrusively as he can, maneuvering around the bed and towards the door when he hears, “Danny, wait—“ and her hand shoots out to grab his hand, keeping him there.

She looks up at him with blown pupils and parted lips, and says, “Scott told me that he kissed you.”

Oh, Jesus. Danny starts to apologize, but Allison shakes her head at him and stands, her arms around his neck. “I told him that I wanted to kiss you, too.”

“—oh,” Danny stammers, his hands going automatically to her waist. There are things he should be saying right now, exits that he should be making, but Allison is staring at him with an intensity and need in her eyes that Danny never would have expected to be there for him. 

Still--“I’m gay,” he manages, because right now it seems like she may have missed that part. And he doesn’t want to mislead her, even if her arms feel great around him, even if she has a pretty mouth and pretty eyes and wants him.

Behind her, Danny can hear the sound of Scott’s heavy breathing. It should really, really make him want to leave, but somehow it’s one more thing keeping his feet planted here, instead.

The corner of her mouth quirks up in a half-smile. “Are you attracted to me, Danny?”

Danny can feel his heartbeat going a mile a minute, and he doesn’t have it in him to lie right now. “Yes.”

She kisses him with an open mouth, her whole body pressing up against him. Allison’s the first girl he’s ever kissed, and the kiss itself is not that different: there’s no stubble, and her lips are maybe a little softer than a guy’s. But he can feel her breasts and her thighs rubbing against him, and it’s new and odd but at the moment, he wants more.

Allison eventually breaks the kiss and steps backward with a deep sigh, her eyes still screwed shut. Danny looks over at Scott, and Scott looks back at him with golden eyes.

“Um, your eyes—“ Danny says, but Scott’s suddenly right there, and for a brief, surreal second, Danny is afraid he’s going to get punched. 

But then Scott’s grabbing Danny by the hair and yanking his head to the side and Scott is _smelling_ him, his nose pressed in the hollow behind Danny’s ear and his mouth hot on Danny’s neck. Danny can feel teeth scraping his skin, too, and Scott’s giving off the same crazy amount of body heat that he was when he kissed Danny, and Danny has to clutch at Allison’s shoulder just to keep his balance.

“Oh my God, Scott.” Allison sounds a little exasperated and a lot breathless, and Scott stops mauling Danny’s neck to kiss her hard. He looks jealous and possessive, except that his other hand is still tensed on the back of Danny’s neck, and that feels possessive, too.

Allison pushes Scott off, and then just stands there, one hand on Danny’s shoulder and one hand fisted in Scott’s t-shirt. She looks like she’s going through the same mental struggle that Danny’s currently experiencing, over whether to be sensible or whether to try this. Scott doesn’t look like he’s struggling with anything; he just looks hungry.

“Okay,” Allison says, mostly to herself it seems like. Then she fits herself in between them, her left arm around Danny’s waist and her right arm on Scott’s shoulders, and herds the three of them back to the bed. 

Scott is on him again as soon as Danny’s back hits the sheets. He kisses Danny on the lips just once, and then Danny feels Scott’s hot breath trailing down his jaw and his neck before biting at the skin between Danny’s neck and shoulder. Biting _hard,_ way harder than Danny would have expected from him, and it makes Danny gasp and his back arch up. 

“Scott! Get a grip,” Allison says, sounding actually concerned. She fits herself along Danny’s other side and tangles her fingers in Scott’s hair, lifting his head.

Scott groans like he’s in pain, resting his forehead against Danny’s chest. “I’m trying! It’s just—there’s so much—“

There is something going on here that goes beyond the simple weirdness of making out with your friend and his girlfriend. Something weird going on with Scott, and Danny can feel his mind trying to pay attention and connect the dots, but the rest of him really wants to forget about it and focus on the tasks at hand. 

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” Danny mumbles, and pulls Allison in to kiss her. Their tongues tangling together feels particularly appealing, as do Scott’s fingers sliding up beneath his shirt, trailing over his ribcage. Danny has always loved having sex while stoned—it makes him more tactile, less self-conscious. It’s not quite enough to completely take away his self-consciousness in this sort of situation, but it does enough to let him go with it.

Allison stops kissing him to kiss Scott, who has pulled Danny’s shirt up so that it’s bunched up under his pits. Danny wriggles out from under them long enough to take off his shirt, and Scott and Allison shed theirs, too. Scott’s chest is freaking _gleaming_ and his nipples are hard and Danny’s seen him shirtless a thousand times in the locker room, but never like this.

“So, uh, how should we do this?” Scott asks, looking to Allison for the answer. 

Allison bites her lip, and then says, “Okay, let’s all take the rest of our clothes off.” 

They do so. Danny can hardly think through the clamor of his heartbeat in his ears, and when he sees how hard Scott is, he feels a little faint. 

“Now, let’s all—“ Allison maneuvers them around until they’re all on their knees on the bed, facing each other. She looks into Danny’s eyes and reaches out slowly, like she doesn’t want to startle him, and wraps her fingers around his cock. 

Danny hisses. He reaches out to reciprocate, kind of amazed at how badly he wants to touch her cunt, but with her other hand Allison grabs Scott’s wrist and guides his hand between her legs. Danny’s mouth is painfully dry (thanks, cottonmouth) and it takes him a second to catch a clue, but then he licks his palm and reaches out to wrap his hand around Scott’s dick, doing his best to act like someone who totally gets into circle jerks with his friends all the time.

Allison’s hand feels amazing, and Danny is the first one to come. He gasps and shudders and grabs Allison’s shoulder for support, and she leans into him and kisses him tenderly, until he can open his eyes again, until he can come back to himself. 

Danny’s hand had slipped off of Scott’s cock during his orgasm, and now Scott leans in to kiss both of their mouths, his tongue snaking in between their two sets of lips. 

“Allison,” Scott murmurs, sounding like he’s completely out of breath. “Can I—do you want me to be inside you?”

“Yes,” Allison says immediately, her voice breaking a little bit. Scott scrambles to the edge of the bed, reaching underneath it (of course, he must know exactly where Allison keeps the condoms), while Allison turns her face back to Danny and buries her face in his shoulder. 

“Touch me,” she mumbles against his neck, and Danny obliges, trailing his index finger through the soft curls of her pubic hair until he finds what he’s fairly certain is her clitoris.

“I might need a little help with this,” he admits, which makes Allison laugh. But then she moans, and—god, she’s so slick down there, unbelievably wet and slippery and it’s getting all over Danny’s fingers. 

“That’s fine,” Allison says. “If you could—to the left a little bit?” Danny complies as best as he’s able to, and Allison bites her lip and makes a keening noise. On her other side, Scott is rolling the condom over himself, and Danny looks up when he feels Scott’s fingers brush his forearm.

Scott smiles and then kisses him, quick but affectionate, and Danny feels something deep in his chest loosens up. Allison rubs her hand over his chest, and Danny leans into it. His bones feel like limp noodles and his brain feels like mush, in the best possible way, and his whole being thrums with the sure knowledge of how much these people like him.

Danny stops rubbing Allison’s clit and shifts, lying down on his side so that Scott can get into position. Allison settles back on the pillows and gasps as Scott enters her; Danny doesn’t bother trying to disguise the fact that he’s staring at Scott’s dick going into her vagina, because it’s fascinating and he’s never seen this before and—the whole thing is way more hot to watch than he would have expected.

“Put your hand back,” Allison whines at him, and Danny obliges, slipping his fingers in to the space between Allison’s clit and Scott’s abdomen. He starts making the same circle motions that he was doing before, but Allison grabs his wrist, stopping it. “No, just—don’t rub, just keep it there,” she says, and bucks her hips up hard against his hand. 

Which means she’s also grinding against Scott, who makes a strangled sort of grunting noise and pumps his hips in return. They settle into a sort of rhythm, Scott fucking into her and Allison grinding against him while Danny presses down. He can feel Scott’s abs, slippery with sweat and sliding up and down the back of his hand. He drops kisses along Allison’s shoulder and tries to give her as much pressure as he can. 

Allison grabs at Scott’s shoulders, her lips stretch wide in a silent yell, and her muscles go stiff as she shudders and convulses. Danny keeps his lips pressed to her collarbone, and doesn’t remove his hand until she goes limp.

“Oh my _fucking God_ that felt amazing,” Scott says, with feeling. He grabs Allison’s thigh and hitches her leg up higher. Allison sighs shakily as Scott’s thrusts get more erratic; she sounds the way Danny feels. 

“God, I love you s-so much,” Scott says. When Danny looks up at him, it’s like Scott is completely open and completely beautiful, his head thrown back and his lips parted and his eyes squeezing shut as he starts to come. Danny glances down, at the stuttering rhythm of his hips, the way his fingers squeeze on Allison’s thigh. 

Jesus Christ, he hopes that this isn’t a one-time thing for them, because Danny really wants Scott to fuck him.

Scott’s eyes open wide as his hips thrust into Allison one last time, his whole body trembling, and there it is again: his eyes flash gold, and—his teeth are different. It happens so fast that Danny almost thinks he imagined it, and then Scott collapses down on top of Danny and Allison with a spent groan. 

For a few minutes—or seconds, maybe, Danny has no idea—all three of them remain silent. He can both hear and feel their breathing, and even their heartbeats, because his head is on Allison’s chest and Scott’s close enough that Danny can register the faint, insistent thump of the pulse at his neck. 

Scott’s the first one to talk, his head tilting up to look at Allison. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

Allison sighs. Her fingers come up to card through Danny’s hair, and Danny can see her other arm tightening around Scott. 

“Better,” she says eventually. “A little better.”

Scott pushes himself upright for a second to peck her cheek, then settles back down again. His free hand crosses over her ribcage to find Danny’s shoulder, petting him and then settling on Danny’s elbow. 

Danny studies Scott’s face over the rise and fall of Allison’s breasts. He thinks about Scott’s eyes. 

And Scott’s teeth. If Danny hadn’t been sex-stupid and stoned at the time, that probably would have been scary. Huh.

“Scott, are you not human?” Danny asks, because he doesn’t know how else to put it.

Scott looks surprised, then guilty, then his nose scrunches up and he buries his face in Allison’s boob. Allison huffs out a laugh. 

“Well, are you?” She asks sweetly, and Scott lifts his head to glare at her.

But when he looks back at Danny, he just looks resigned and a little tired. He sighs like he’s a grown-up. “Do you really, honestly want to know?”

Danny thinks about it while Scott and Allison both look at him. His mind is still fuzzy around the edges and he’s in bed with two beautiful, naked people, and all the shit with George, all the shit with Jackson—all the shit in his life feels blissfully far away.

“Man, whatever,” he mumbles into Allison’s shoulder, and two pairs of arms tighten around him.


End file.
